


Helsinki: November 2018

by Eliza



Series: The (15) Kisses Album [14]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28110597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza/pseuds/Eliza
Summary: The apartment in Helsinki becomes a home.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: The (15) Kisses Album [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727986
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Helsinki: November 2018

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Massive 
> 
> See series for notes

Otabek took the strainer out of the teapot and debated filling the mug. It was probably early, he was probably going to have to reheat it in the microwave, but he’d needed something to do. Then he heard Yuri’s key in the lock and all the tension he’d been holding since waking up fell away. He poured the tea.

Public practice this morning had been less than world class. After Otabek caught an edge and hit the ice, his coach called an end to it, not wanting to risk him getting injured before the short program tomorrow. Hopefully, the press would think that it was just nerves about his first Grand Prix event on home ice. Anyone who knew him would realize that was ridiculous and suspect something more serious, which might be an advantage at this level of competition. There were a handful of people who knew the real reason and all of them would be rolling their eyes to see him right now, just like his coach had.

“Yuri had better be on that train,” his coach had grumbled while pressing a reassuring hand on Otabek’s shoulder as he unlaced his skates.

Yuri messaged when the train pulled out of Saint Petersburg, even knowing that Otabek would likely be stepping onto the ice. That was their typical routine, but it had been over a month since the last time Otabek received a text saying Yuri was on his way. Otabek didn’t message back when he got home early; he didn’t want Yuri to know he’d fucked up his practice. It wasn’t so much that he was embarrassed—although he was—but because it was exactly the type of thing that made Yuri second-guess the decision they’d made to entangle their lives. 

Decision might not be the right word. The day he moved into his Helsinki apartment, Otabek gave Yuri a key. At that moment, it seemed like a massive milestone, but Yuri just took it, put it in his pocket and continued complaining about the construction noise across the street. However, after Yuri returned to Saint Petersburg, Otabek found a second toothbrush still in the bathroom, he cleaned out a drawer for the pair of Yuri’s sleep shorts he found in the bed, then, after wearing it for a few days, he hung Yuri’s hoodie in the closet. Over the next few months, the toothbrush was joined by an eclectic assortment of tubes and bottles, and now, over a year later, Yuri’s drawer was a full dresser and the hoodie’s companions took up 60% of the closet space. Yuri’s cat mugs were in the kitchen, Yuri’s favourite snacks in the cupboard and his Playstation was hooked up to the TV because Yuri said that it was depressing to play it by himself. 

Yuri was talking softly to someone as he opened the door. The tone alone was very odd, so Otabek was wearing a puzzled frown rather than a welcoming smile as he walked into the entryway, Yuri’s tea in hand. 

“You’re home,” Yuri said as he dropped a very large duffle just inside the door, then kissed Otabek in greeting as he took the mug. “God, I love you so much,” he said, taking a sip as he moved into the living room. “We were hoping to surprise you.” 

Otabek didn’t follow. Couldn’t. He seemed to have dissociated from his body the moment he spotted the other bag over Yuri’s shoulder—the pet carrier. 

Yuri set down his tea on an end table and the carrier in a sheltered corner with a view of the rest of the room. He opened the front, but all Otabek could see were Potya’s blue eyes glinting from shadows. Yuri snickered and then took a picture directly into the carrier. “Grumpy cat. We’ll ignore him while he decides how much he hates me for keeping him in there for so long. He’s been yelling at me for the past hour,” Yuri said, getting to his feet. “I’ll get everything else set up in the meantime.” 

They had spoken about this. Sort of. They hadn’t _discussed_ it, but mentioned it the way they did everything else about future plans, like it was some vague eventuality. When Yuri had started looking for a new coach over the summer, Otabek had given the Finnish Figure Skating Association a heads up about the possibility of another world-class skater moving their home rink to Helsinki. Otherwise he had not been involved—deliberately not involved—in any of Yuri’s career decisions. Yuri made a joint statement with Yakov about the coaching change just after the Grand Prix assignments were announced, and Yuri’s subsequent comments, as well as the gold he won at Skate America ten days ago, suggested the new partnership was working. 

Still, Otabek hadn’t really let himself believe that Yuri would ever leave Russia, at least not while he was still skating. The key was nothing, a little piece of metal, a dresser was just a place to keep some extra clothes, but Potya was a living being, a real responsibility. A commitment. A commitment which Yuri simply assumed—rightly—that Otabek would share. All of the random comments, the more deliberate questions, the obvious actions, suddenly coalesced into the certain knowledge that Yuri wasn’t just keeping some stuff here—he was moving in. 

When Yuri passed close on his way to retrieve his duffle, Otabek grabbed him around the waist. There was a moment of surprise on Yuri’s face which immediately shifted to delight as Otabek slid his hand under Yuri’s hair to press his fingers against the nape of Yuri’s neck. The skin under his fingertips was warm, but where he brushed Yuri’s jaw with his thumb, it was still cool from the walk from the tram. Yuri’s lips were cool, too, just enough to contrast with the heat of Yuri’s mouth, his tongue, as they both opened up to the kiss. It wasn’t meant to be arousing; well, it wasn’t urgent, except for the way it felt like finally taking a breath. A month without this was far, far too long.

Otabek sighed into a brief respite, and Yuri hummed in agreement as he pressed into the kiss again and wrapped his arm around Otabek’s back. They both shifted, just a bit, enough to settle more comfortably against each other. They were good at that, working toward perfection with small adjustments. Yuri pulled them tighter together, and Otabek transferred that motion into the kiss with a firm, swift caress, like a push to gain speed on the ice. Yuri, as always, matched him and they fell into a few moments of increasing momentum.

“Hello to you, too,” Yuri said against Otabek’s lips in the next natural pause, then pulled back to look at Otabek with a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows. “You okay? You’re even quieter than usual.” 

Otabak nodded as he could feel the joy that had been slowly, steadily, overflowing his heart reach his face. He fought the smile long enough to land one more soft kiss, then said, “Welcome home.”


End file.
